Hanging By a Thread
by punkprincessabz
Summary: Post Devil's Trap fic. Sam's waits anxiously in the hospital to find out whether Dean and John will survive the injuries they gained from the demon and car crash or whether he'll be left without brother and father.


**Hanging By a Thread**

Sam wasn't sure how long he'd been sat in the hospital waiting room. It could have been minutes, hours, even days, but everything had been a blur since he'd regained consciousness. He didn't even remember waking up in the wrecked Impala and calling 911; the paramedic had informed him of that on the way to the hospital, after Sam had woken up in the ambulance, confused and in pain.

What happened during the rest of the journey, Sam had no idea. They must have arrived at the hospital not long after. Sam had vague recollections of doctors asking questions about the crash and of a nurse trying to usher him to get some rest in one of the hospital beds. He'd refused, hadn't even let them patch up the numerous cuts and bruises covering his body, insisting that they tend to his brother and father first. One of the other nurses, an older grey-haired lady, had been suspicious of Dean's demon-inflicted injuries and John's gunshot wound to the leg. Sam had been too tired and too worried to make an excuse so he'd simply ignored them. He knew he'd have to pay the repercussions for his evasiveness later but that was the least of his worried right now.

Sam stood and began pacing, unable to sit helplessly in the waiting room chair any longer. He hated this lack of control, not being able to do anything to save his beloved brother. He hated that he'd been so stupid as to not realise that his father was possessed, a mistake that could cost his beloved brother's life. The demon had been after Sam all along, it had told him that itself. If only he'd gone back to Stanford, or better yet just given himself up to the demon when it came for him before, none of this would have happened. Dean and his father wouldn't be lying in hospital beds right now, fighting for their lives. Jess would still be alive.

"Hey, young man!"

_Is she talking to me?_ Sam turned as the voice pierced his thoughts. There was the grey-haired nurse again, glaring at him as if he'd just committed a felony. Sam followed her eyes to the wall in front of him, surprised to discover his own first buried within the drywall, blooding dripping down his arm.

A middle-aged male doctor walked up to stand beside the nurse.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm sorry, I-I wasn't thinking."

"Doctor?" a young blonde nurse called from the waiting room door.

The doctor turned and stalked off angrily, but not before throwing one last disapproving look at Sam. Sam mentally cringed, frustrated with himself for losing control. If Dean or dad were conscious right now they'd be more than pissed. Sam slowly twisted his arm and pulled out his hand, wincing as the plaster cut deeper into his skin. The nurse took a step towards him, shaking her head.

"Like it or not, young man, you're going to have to get this hand patched up. Come with me."

Sam reluctantly followed.

---

_Man, why is it so bright in here?_ Dean wondered as his eyes tried to adjust to the florescent white mass over his head. He struggled to turn his head to the side and dizziness and pain threatened to overwhelm him before he could catch more than a glimpse of the blinding whiteness of the hallway outside, filled with nurses, doctors and visitors.

"You're awake."

Dean struggled to hold back a smile at the familiar -- although somewhat exhausted sounding -- voice of his brother.

"Takes more than some crazy-ass demon to keep me down, Sammy."

"It's _Sam_," his younger brother replies forcefully, although the light tone of his voice shows no sign of resentment for the usage of his childhood nickname.

Dean turned his head to the side a little and his vision blurred for a moment, until his eyes finally adjusted enough for him to see a weary and bruised Sam.

"How's dad?"

Sam stared down at his hands, trying to hide his worry from Dean. "He's in a coma. With the amount of blood he lost…"

Dean shakes his head, "they don't know if he'll make it."

Sam looked up and nodded sadly.

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "He'll be okay, Sammy. Dad's a fighter."

The younger brother nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I know."

"So, how long have I been out?" Dean asked, struggling to change the subject.

"Uh, three days."

"Seen any hot nurses?" Dean asked, his trademark grin in place.

Sam couldn't help but break into a smile. No matter how obvious it was that his older brother was trying to change the topic, Sam was grateful for the lighter turn the conversation had taken.

"I think you'll be disappointed."

---

A week later and Dean was already on his feet, the colour back in his face, but despite his attempts to convince the nurses that he was well enough to leave, they denied him. Normally Dean would have climbed out of a window by now but with John still comatose, Dean wasn't willing to have to stay away from the hospital for good so he reluctantly stayed put.

Dean sensed the presence of his brother before Sam even appeared in the doorway.

"I swear this damn fabric softener bear is haunting me."

Sam smiled and stepped inside the room. "Next time you get your ass kicked by some demon and end up in hospital, I promise to bring you some DVDs."

"You'd better. And if any of them are chick flicks, I'll kill you." Dean deadpans.

Sam shook his head as he settled himself down in the chair next to Dean's bedside. Dean turned the television off just as the old grey-haired nurse entered, a grim expression on her face.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news."

Dean swallowed nervously, sure of what the nurse was going the say before she even spoke the words.

Sam slowly rose from his chair, his face a mixture of horror and shock.

"John…your father…he just passed."

Dean slowly turned his head to look at the disbelieving expression on his younger brother's face.

"Are you sure you can't, I mean, there has to be something…" Sam replied, the desperation thick in his voice.

"I'm sorry," the nurse replied sincerely, before turning and leaving the room.

Sam slowly sunk back down into the chair. Dean sat up and reached over to lay a hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"We're going to find the demon that, Sammy. We're gonna find it and we're gonna kill the bastard."

Sam looked up and Dean was shocked at the pure anger in his brother's eyes.

"You're damn right about that."

---

And voila my second Supernatural fic. I hope you guys enjoyed it and any constructive criticism and reviews would be very much appreciated. :)


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